I like all of it. But exploring what I feel is a dangerous path.
If things go too far, I could end up hurting her and my sister along the way.
Because I don't plan on staying here. I want to travel. I want to see the world.
That's my plan, and that's what I need to keep reminding myself.
All of this is only temporary.
5
Anna
“Anna!” my boss screams my name from the kitchen.
I excuse myself from the customer I just finished taking an order from, and head back to see what he wants. He stands in his office door and waves me over as soon as he sees me. I already don't like this. I don't like the way he talks to his employees, and I don't like the way he looks at me.
He's too touchy feely. Too hands on. And when he's angry, he'll spare you none of your feelings. I found this all out on day one. The second I walked in to start my first shift, he went off on a girl and made her cry.
“Yes, Mr. Scaramuchi,” I say.
“Sit,” he commands as he drops into his old, grungy office chair. The wheels squeak like a rusty weathervane spinning slowly on top of an old farmhouse as he rolls closer to his desk.
I sit. Not scooting my chair any closer. His office smells like stale cigars and peanuts. There's a pile of empty shells cascading out of an ashtray on his desk. The chalky, musty scent fills the room, making it almost unbearable to breathe.
“I need you to come in tomorrow for a double. Gloria called out and I have no one else to take her place.”
“I'm already on the schedule for tomorrow.”
“I know, and you'll be staying late. A double shift.”
“But—”
“No buts,” he snaps, slamming the back of his pen down on the desk. The tower of peanut shells teeters, and a couple of loose pieces tumble off the edge. “Do you realize how lucky you are to even have this job?”
“I do, but—”
“Normally,” he says, ignoring me and cutting me off, “I have my staff train for a week before they're on their own. But I gave you a chance because there's something I like about you. I decided to see what you had to offer this restaurant. Don't make me regret it, Anna.”
“I appreciate it, I really do.”
He turns in his chair to face me, holding the pen between both hands and playing with the ends. “Good. You know, if you want to get ahead in life, sometimes it's a good idea to make your boss happy. You know what I mean?” He smiles, his teeth yellow and crooked.
My face itches to cringe, but I hold back. I don't want to piss him off. I need this job. It took me far too long to find a place that would hire me without an in-person interview. I don't have much saved up, and losing this would force me back home.
I watched my mother and father spend their entire lives living in one place. They never left the small confines of our tiny town in Kentucky. I don't want to be that person. I want to experience everything my parents never had the chance to.
He leans over, resting his elbows on his knees. His eyes are as small as the head of a pin, sending a chill up my spine as they explore my body. My hair stands on end, and not in a good way.
Not in the same way it does when Dash looks at me. Or when he's close to me. Or when he touches me. With Dash I feel good. My stomach gets warm and my skin tingles. I can feel every muscles tighten and my lips begin to ache because I want to kiss him so bad.
Giovanni Scaramuchi is not a man who gives you goosebumps and makes you nervous because of how he looks at you. Giovanni is a man who makes your skin crawl. A thin strip of hair is combed over the top of his hair. His skin is greasy and marked with scars from years of bad acne as a teenager. His fingers are thick and round as sausages, and he's constantly sucking loose spit out of the weaselly mustache stuck above his upper lip.
“No, I don't know what you mean,” I say. I thought making my boss happy is being here on time, keeping the customers happy, and doing the job he's paying me for.
He licks his lips and brushes the sad strip of hair with his palm. “I'm just letting you know that if you want to move up in this place, there are ways to make that happen.” He reaches out and gently touches my knee.
I stand up quickly and grab the handle on the door. “Well, I need to get back to work. I'm sure my customers are wondering where their food is.”